|
Introduction
Fright,
distress, deprivation and violent death by storm and flood–affecting thousands
of our people in many cities and villages of the Middle West–property loss
amounting to a great many millions of dollars–all that the imagination can
conjure from these words and more has hung over the American public like a
persistent nightmare filled with unnamed horrors and has stirred the whole world
with profound sympathy for the victims.
President Wilson set in motion every
agency of the Federal Government for relief tents, rations, soldiers and medical
supplies–while many States and cities were quick to respond.
Following
closely the disastrous storms in the South, the first of a far worse series of
death-dealing and destructive cyclones and floods occurred on Easter Sunday,
March 23, when several tornadoes or cyclones with terrific force and speed swept
over Nebraska and parts of Iowa, Indiana and Illinois. The city of Omaha was
the worst sufferer. At Omaha the path of the storm was through the rich
residential section, completely wrecking hundreds of houses and causing the
violent death of many persons. The homeless numbered thousands.
All wire
communication was cut off by the storm, so that for several hours the rest of
the world was in ignorance of what had happened in the Nebraska metropolis and
other points of the storm’s path. Night came on with this frightful situation
and fires started in the wreckage of buildings.
Rescue work was rushed by the
light of lanterns, as wires were down and the electric power shut off to
minimize fire dangers.
Snowstorms and cold rains added to the sufferings of
the homeless and to the difficulties of the rescue work at Omaha and other
places west.
Chapter
I.
A Desolate Easter Sunday
Easter Sunday,
March 23, 1918, Gives Birth To Desolation–A Tiny Cloud Grows and Darkness
Comes–A Proud City is Devastated–A Period of Destruction Begins
“The
rain descended and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that
house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it.”
Matt. vii.27
Again is
mankind humbled by the power of the Almighty and the great Middle West, with its
fertile fields, immense industrial establishments and boasted communities of
stability and wealth, lies devastated by wind and water. Like a pigmy, man, the
powerful, has been moved down in his vineyard, his house has been leveled and
his possessions cast to the four winds of the earth.
Out of a tiny cloud that
hovered over the beautiful city of Omaha at the close of a peaceful Easter
Sunday, on March 23, 1913, there grew a storm of almost unparalleled
destruction, which swept over Nebraska, Iowa, Illinois and portions of adjoining
States to awe all mankind and claim as tribute hundreds of human lives besides
untold millions of dollars worth of property.
Like a great black vulture of
the night the tornado swept down upon the centre of Omaha at the end of an
Easter day when the citizens were preparing for a night of rest. Neighboring
towns had been damaged by storms within a day or two, and blizzards in the
surrounding country should have warned of dangerous atmospheric
conditions.
The little cloud off to the south, near the town of Ralston, grew
rapidly. It assumed the form of a funnel and moved with tremendous speed.
Blacker and blacker grew the funnel, increasing in diameter until the smaller
end nearest the ground covered an area of half a mile.
Filling the air with a
curious, piercing noise as it moved, the storm cloud was viewed in its work of
destruction through the early evening light by passengers on a Chicago,
Burlington and Quincy Railroad train, whose word pictures of the scene are
unsurpassed in their eloquence.
Houses Collapsed As If Made Of
Paper
Ahead
of the train on which they were riding the black funnel struck the little town of Ralston. Houses collapsed as though they were of paper. The roofs went sailing away and the sides fell
in. The passengers sat as though
glued to their seats when the cloud struck. Then as they comprehended the
desolation wrought, a cry of horror went up.
The engineer brought the train
to a stand and the passengers ran over to the wreckage of the houses. They
could hear the groans of the dying men and the wails of the injured and
terrorized women and children.
“I entered a house, or what had been a house,”
said William Coon, of Lincoln, Neb., one of the passengers, “and before me lay a
woman. I touched her, and she was dead. We got all of the injured out of the
ruins and brought them to the train. We were about to leave when our attention
was called to a little house some distance from the others. It had been wrecked
and moved from its foundation, but we found a mother and her little baby lying
upon a bed uninjured. At another place a man was in the basement. His house
was carried away bodily and he was left standing with a very surprised look on
his face, uninjured.”
“A big threshing machine, standing near one of the
houses when the cloud struck it, shot straight up into the air and was carried
about forty roads. Houses were rolling and tumbling along the ground. I saw a
box car carried along by the terrific air current for a quarter of a mile. When
it split open six or seven men, who turned out to be part of a repair gang,
dropped out. Some lay very still, while others feebly crawled about.”
A
Veritable Deluge
I was recovering from what I had seen on the train when we
pulled into Omaha with the injured. It was night then–but such a night! The
sky was lighted with a red glare and the streets were filled with people, who
acted as though they were mad. It was raining, a veritable deluge. Frequently
the cries of the wounded, unloaded at the station, were drowned by terrific
peals of thunder.”
As the storm approached Omaha the atmosphere became heavy
and oppressive. This lasted about twenty minutes, and at ten minutes to ten we
heard a terrific roar. The only way I can describe it, is to compare it to a
thousand trains rushing through a tunnel at one time.”
“Following that noise
we heard loud crashing and grinding. Instinct told me that a tornado had struck
the city.
All then was in darkness. Electric wires were torn down, telephones
were out of commission and each house was practically a box full of frightened
people. Many of the ruined houses caught fire, and the loud clanging of fire
bells all over the town added terror to the scene. The tornado lasted about
twelve minutes, and was followed by a torrential rain.”
“The cloud was most
peculiar. It resembled a huge kite above and was followed by a long dark tail,
which whipped and licked its way along the path of destruction. It started in
the southwest corner of the city and cut through the best residential section
like a scythe.
Great Danger From Fire
Fire broke out in the debris of
many wrecked buildings in the Nebraska and across the Missouri River in Iowa
suffered severely, companies were hindered by falling walls and blockaded
streets. A heavy rain followed the wind, and though it drenched the hundreds of
homeless persons, it also put out the flames.
Of the known dead within the
area covered by the storm, 152 were residents of Omaha. The remaining dead were
scattered over a considerable range of territory, with Council Bluffs reporting
12; Yutan, Neb., 16; Berlin, Neb.,7; Glenwood, IA., 5; Neola, IA., 2; and
Bartlett, IA., 3. The same cities and towns reported an aggregate of 400
injured and 450 homes demolished.
More than 1500 persons were made homeless.
Aside from this 3000 buildings were more or less damaged, many of these being
churches and school buildings. Eight of Omaha’s public schools were
wrecked.
The destruction began with the millionaire homes in the exclusive
West Farnam and Bemis Park district, but farther northwest the buildings
collapsed more easily and a large number of deaths resulted.
E. H. Smith, a
private of the Signal Corps from Fort Omaha, became insane after helping carry a
number of bodies and collapsed. When he had regained consciousness it was
necessary to take him to the post hospital where he was placed under
restraint.
All In Darkness
Rescue work started as soon as the people
were able to hurry to the stricken district, but the night’s work was by the
light of lanterns and little was accomplished. With the arrival of daylight, a
train load of militia from Lincoln and the presence in the city of Governor
Morehead, the work was systematized and a search for bodies started at
once.
Des Moines sent a special train with 40 physicians who helped out the
local staff who had been at work since 6 o’clock of the night before. Nurses
and medical supplies were also brought on this train.
The stretch of Omaha
covered by the tornado reaches from the southern limit to the suburb of
Florence, six miles north of the point of origin. The storm swept the western
part of the city for its entire length following the west side of the valley,
extending along the Missouri River bluffs.
The eastern half of the
city, generally composing the business section, was out of the path of the storm,
but suffered greatly.
The greater part of the damage was done west of
Twenty-fourth street, a north and south cross-town street, extending the entire
length of the city.
Show Place Unroofed
Among the show places of the
city which felt the baneful effects of the storm was the Joslyn Castle, where
the roof was torn off and the trees and shrubbery uprooted.
The Convent of the
Poor Clares at Twenty-ninth and Hamilton streets was unroofed and the grounds
were littered with debris.
From the Field Club, which is in the western part
of the city to the Carter Lake Club, situated at the northeast extremity, is one
mass of debris from two to six blocks wide.
Federal soldiers from Fort Omaha
assisted the police in keeping looters and morbid curiosity seekers at
bay.
At Twenty-fourth and Lake streets a moving picture show which was just
putting on its final film was struck. The roof of the building fell and in the
mad rush, which was made through the only open exits open, many of those who
were not hurt by the collapse of the building were trampled and crushed.
The Sacred Heart Convent, one of the finest Catholic schools in the Middle
West, was directly in the path of the storm and was totally demolished. It is
considered a miracle that every person in the enormous building escaped without
injury.
A street car on a North Side line was demolished by the tornado and
ten of the passengers injured. Conductor Caldwell, in telling his experiences,
said:
“I was on the back platform when I saw the tornado coming. I gave the
signal to stop, shouted to the passengers that a cyclone was coming and ran for
a basement of an unfinished building. I jumped into the basement and three or
four passengers were with me. Wreckage flew over us and a lot of boards were
piled on top of us. A scantling was driven through the car and wedged between
the seats and the side of the car.”
Every window in the car was broken, bricks
and debris of all kinds were piled inside and every seat was torn
loose.
Babies Blown Out Of Buildings
Two babies were blown out of the
building and the others piled in a heap on the floor when the storm struck the
Child’s Savings Institution. The babies were in their nursery on the second
floor of the west wing of the building, which was partly blown away. One of the
babies blown away was found nearly a block distant, dead. Her name was Thelma.
Aside from bruises and the fright, the rest of the babies were not badly
injured.
Chapter II
Desolation, Doubt And Despair
Harrowing
Scenes–Wreckage Everywhere–Caring for the Injured–The President Offers
Assistance–Burying the Dead
Many are the freaks reported in the path of
the tornado. Houses were left unscathed, while their neighbors were literally
torn to pieces. Splinters were driven through trees, and in one place the lower
story of a house was torn out while the upper story settled in its place. Shade
trees were uprooted and driven entirely through brick buildings. Wires were torn
down and wrapped about poles as if wound by the hand of an artisan.
In
portions of the wreck-strewn path vast throngs of people stood with uncovered
heads, tears streaming down their cheeks, as firemen and soldiers came out of
the debris carrying in their arms the bodies of children and their mothers and
fathers.
A strange thing about the disaster was that Omaha’s destruction was
kept secret from the world for many hours by the storm, for all wire
communication was broken down in the wrecking of the homes. Messengers had to
go to Lincoln, the State capitol, to give out first definite news of the
disaster.
Clouds A Greenish Hue
“All afternoon the clouds had been low
and toward evening they began to pile up from the southwest and took on a
greenish hue. There was no wind up to that time. Suddenly the sky darkened and
the wind came in a piercing whistle.
I was walking in the centre of the city.
A moment later the blast came roaring like a train crossing a wooden bridge, and
the air was filled with debris. I plunged into an areaway of a building in the
centre of a block.
I saw a man picked off his feet and blown through a
plate-glass window of the Odd Fellow’ Temple. He was killed.
A taxi careened
around a corner, seemed to be running solidly and in the next instant it was
tilted and rolled and then lifted over a sidewalk wall about six feet high. The
chauffeur, I believe, must have been killed, as the machine was smashed to
kindling.
The roof of a small store was blown off about half a block from my
refuge. I could not see distinctly because of the dust, but I discerned a man
run from the store to the street and then saw his body whirled for more than 100
feet. His scalp was terribly cut, his arms broken and he was unconscious when
picked up later.
The storm passed in what must have been a very few minutes,
and I fled on, and in two blocks I was out of the storm zone and into the
business district, where there were no signs of damage.”
Governor Moorhead
notified Mayor Dahlman that he would send a special message to the Legislature
asking for the appropriation of sufficient funds to care for the homeless
throughout the State.
Police Commissioner Ryder issued orders for all saloons
in the vicinity of the wrecked district to remain closed until further
notice.
Cots were placed in the auditorium and those without shelter were
temporarily housed there. The city purchasing agent arranged for enough beds to
care for all those who could sleep in the auditorium.
President Wilson,
immediately upon hearing of the terrible disaster, sent the following message to
Mayor Dahlman, of Omaha:
Washington, March 24
“James C. Dahlman, Mayor of
Omaha:
“I am deeply distressed at the news received from Nebraska. Can we
help in any way?
“Woodrow Wilson.”
In reply Mayor Dahlman sent this
message of deep appreciation:
“We deeply appreciate your offer of assistance,
but our people are responding nobly, and I believe we can handle the situation.
Major Hartman, of Fort Omaha, and his men came promptly to our assistance and
are doing great work. The people of Omaha desire, however, to express their
gratitude to you for your message of sympathy.”
James C.
Dahlman
Telephone Exchange A Hospital
The Webster Telephone Exchange,
at Twenty-second and Lake streets became a centre for rescue work as soon as the
tornado had passed. Physicians and nurses were summoned to the building and
army officers’ headquarters were established there. One hundred and seventy-six
young women were working at the switchboards when the tornado struck. Every
window in the building was broken out and considerable damage was done to the
building, but the switchboards remained intact. All night the force of
operators continued to work at the board.
One of the rest rooms, the
furniture soaked with water and stained with blood, was converted into a
temporary morgue, and bodies from the surrounding district were held there
awaiting ambulances. Nurses and physicians occupied another room, where injured
persons were stretched on the floor.
When the terrific whirling cloud finally
left Omaha at Fourteenth and Spencer streets it demolished the Missouri Pacific
roundhouse, leveled the big trestle of the Illinois Central Railroad over Carter
Lake, wrecked a number of buildings near the Rod and Gun Club, a fashionable
outing place, and disappeared to the northeast.
The pathway of the storm,
from three to seven blocks in width, cut a swath of twenty-four blocks long.
Within the space of this storm centre, which if made rectangular would cover a
quarter section of land, 1200 houses were wrecked and more than 100 bodies were
recovered.
Estimates of the value of the property demolished by the storm in
Omaha alone are estimated at $12,000,000.
Students In Schools Escape
Injury
Eight public schools were put out of commission, seven churches were
partly or wholly wrecked and one private school for girls was totally destroyed,
although the students escaped.
Source: Excerpts from Horrors Of Tornado Flood And Fire, by Frederick E.
Drinker, The Minter Company, Harrisburg, Pa., 1918, pp 33-.
Contributed
by: Anna Newell
From the books of E. E.Sheffer
|